


Enchanting Sounds

by Codename_Mallory_Grace



Series: various stand-alone Ferdinand/Hubert fics [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Actor!Ferdinand, Day 2: Modern, Early Film Industry, Ferdibert Week 2019, Ferdinand has a voice kink, Film Industry AU, If the beginning of early modern technology counts, M/M, Propaganda for film and theater? …Maybe, Techie!Hubert, kind of, kind of slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21646885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codename_Mallory_Grace/pseuds/Codename_Mallory_Grace
Summary: Ferdinand von Aegir is Fodlan’s biggest silent film star. As sound technology enters the film industry, Ferdinand struggles to stay relevant. Luckily for him, there a man with a wondrous voice willing to sing in place of his weaker voice. Said mysterious voice captivates the continent. And Ferdinand.Now, if only Ferdinand could find this voice and express his love for it and the man behind the microphone.[For Ferdibert Week Day 2: Modern]
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Series: various stand-alone Ferdinand/Hubert fics [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1483517
Comments: 20
Kudos: 79





	Enchanting Sounds

**Author's Note:**

> Modern is stretching, but it's within the last... Century... That’s totally modern, right? It’s modern technology at least. That must count for something? No? Oh, well. 
> 
> Feel free to skip, but a little film history, which I play fast and loose with, to give the fic context: While big names (studios, stars and directors), existed in the film industry at the time, the period I focus on/refer the most to had new films coming out almost daily. It was nearly unheard of at the time of a film staying in theater for more than a day. Films could show for two days or for the weekend if it was an established film serial, but even that was unusual. So if it feels like there are a lot film premieres, it is because studios had to release films weekly, if not daily. The premieres I write, and use for this fic, are mostly the premieres in the local area. Nothing like a red carpet event we watch today. The films are then distributed on a wider scale afterwards and word of mouth sometimes promoted the films to more areas.

Those who knew Ferdinand von Aegir might question why someone like him, who, at times, loved the sound of his own voice, would ever go into an occupation that did not require his voice. He could have been a singer, a stage actor, a radio star, a telephone operator. Any of those jobs utilized his voice better than acting in front of a camera. The grand speeches he was known for in person would never be translated onto film.

Still, his films with leading lady Dorothea Arnault and director Edelgard von Hresvelg were all smash hits. Critics and fans adored his looks and expressions; be it loving looking at Dorothea or solving the newest “greatest heist of the year”.

His long hair, grown out due to lack of time to spend at the barbers, could be twisted and tied up to convey his character’s social status. His hands, always moving with a certain eager energy,carried his “words” better than any title card. His height, for dramatic or comedy’s sake, let him loom over his adversary, protect his lover from harm, or a bow of his torso to show how far a proud man has fallen.

So, no, Ferdinand’s work did not have speech, but it did not need them.

Until technology said otherwise. The silent moving images with accompany orchestral music was not enough for the studios, or the masterminds behind the camera and film creation.

Five years after Ferdinand’s first big hit, Garreg Mach Studios found the way to incorporate sync sound onto the film while projecting in theaters. The studio heads also wanted their films to be the first with this new technology.

What better opportunity to get public favor than with the first ever sound film with everyone’s favorite star couple?

The film story was the safe, typical, romance Garreg Mach was known for. Dorothea took upon her newest role of an noble lady postponing marriage by touring the countryside with grace. Ferdinand donned the role of the lovelorn lord who follows and supports her with ease. In principle, this film was destined to be another success for all those involved.

In practice, the film was a test of everyone’s patience.

Dorothea and Ferdinand, in particular, used their entire bodies to act out their tale. Moving their bodies across the screen, hiding their faces away from each other, gesturing their wants and desires. But with required synced sound, they always had to face the microphone in a plant, vase, bush, teapot, or even the sky. The limited placement of the microphone equally limited their acting.

In place of their movement, their speech carried the characters. For the first time, Ferdinand could not speak about horses when “courting” Dorothea, who laugh coyishly — on film for having his attention, in the studio for continuous talk about the latest misadventures of his horses. The speech must truly be his proclamation of love.

His voice paired well with the soft murmurs of love, desires, sorrow, and plans for the futures. The sound equipment did not pair well with him. His voice was too loud. Too quiet. Dorothea’s voice came through, but his did not. Or vice versa. A teacup was placed too loudly. A car drove by the studio and interrupted the confession.

Silent filming schedules were no longer than a week, two maximum. The first sound film took a month of early call times and late night filming. It was hard on Ferdinand, but he understood Edelgard took this process a lot harder. He needed to talk in the right direction at the right volume. She was in control of the quality, equipment, and everything else on set.

For the first time since his debut film, Ferdinand’s heart, soul, and body all died a little by the end of this film.

And it was hard to say it was worth it.

While the speech and music worked perfectly, technologically, during the screening, the acting now seemed overwrought. Viewers still liked the film, but hearing the words made the grand gestures, the images, the title cards, the orchestra all obsolete.

 _It was not the opera,_ one review read, _we can see your faces, so why are they so twisted as if the audience was a hundred rows away._

The next film was harder to begin. Knowing all of the criticism and loving the acting technique he has acquired over the years, how could he possibly change his film presence?

It was the greatest challenge Ferdinand and the tight-knitted film cast and crew faced, but like every other challenge, they persevered. Dozens of films came out to lukewarm opinions before Garreg Mach found success.

Musicals, Ferdinand’s first love in the performing arts, was something he longed to perform in; be it a minor character with only spoken words or the main lead with aria after aria from curtain rise to curtain fall. His singing voice, unfortunately put an end to that dream. It was passable, but could not carry a full show.

Edelgard soon discovered that fact about his voice when the studio requested, bordering on demanding, they create a film musical to exhibit at the 10 year celebration of the studio. Ferdinand was, and will be, eternally grateful the director kept in the film. Even if was only for the talking lines. Her solution for the musical numbers, unexpected and slightly insulting, included Ferdinand enunciating the lyrics, but another man’s voice actually singing. He doubted Edelgard would actually find someone. Surely, any male singer that met Edelgard’s high caliber of perfection would want to claim recognition and not stay in the shadows.

Weeks after filming everything except Ferdinand’s songs, the director whispered there existed someone who will record his voice, so he should not worry about being horribly off key; just sing in time with the music.

It was easier said than done.

The numbers were in dimly lit areas, so it was easier to see behind the camera than when under the bright outdoor lights that shined brighter and hotter than the sun. It let his eyes rest, but it also allowed him to see the crew wincing at his songs. He did not think he had a poor singing voice until Edelgard brought earmuffs to set. In the middle of the summer.

It appeared, to those behind the camera, Ferdinand’s musical career was not to be. But that was okay, the instruments might not love him but the camera did.

To those who watched the premiere, Ferdinand had a guarantee path to selling recorders.

The film premiere was the first time Ferdinand heard the man who dubbed over his awful singing voice. And his voice was awful compared to the voice that came out of Ferdinand’s mouth on screen.

It was dark and brewing. It held the words captive until all emotions was taken out of it, and a new one took its place. The rise and fall in the voice took the listener between wild ranges of emotions: caressing poetic words with his tongue to shouting rage at the cruel wider world.

It sounded nothing like Ferdinand, if he was honest. The only similar attribute Ferdinand heard between the two of them was the posh undertone laced with every word they spoke. A man classically trained in theater or singing. Or a highborn blue-blood.

He asked Edelgard about the mysterious man behind the voice at the celebration afterwards, but she refused an answer. Best he not know anything about the voice, lest he accidentally let something slip to the public. And the man wished anonymity as his only demand for lending his voice. Put out and disappointed he could not meet the man himself, Ferdinand promised her to do better in the next production. To make it easier on the man at the microphone.

It was a while before the next production. Something about disputes about payment among the crews and producers. Ferdinand tried to keep an ear for it on the radio, but all the stations seemed to play was the musical numbers from his latest film featuring “his voice”. It was distracting to say the least.

It was not as defined as it once was in the theater, but it still moved Ferdinand sweetly and deeply. He began imagining what the gentleman, for he must be a man of class, looked like. He must be tall; tall enough to protect his lover from the rain from his height alone. Have a taste for music, yet prefer listening to grand orchestral music on rainy days and cup of tea in hand. Hair fair as the clouds, no that was not right, dark hair suited the deep voice best, did it not? Perhaps he needed to collect more thoughts on that topic. But no matter, Ferdinand, if and when he meets the mysterious man, will find the man impossibly handsome. He had already half seduced Ferdinand through voice alone, the matching and real image might end him.

The next production finally came, and just time too. Ferdinand was not an actor living check by check, but he did spend most of his paychecks, which were not small by any means, on the growing number of animal recuse and shelters. Formally, the shelters only catered to domestic animals, but now, with increase awareness for animals of all shapes and sizes, more animals found themselves in the care of humans. The humans who wanted to care for each and every animal, though, needed money. Money Ferdinand was happy to supply.

However, he might have donated too much, not that ever regret it, as when Edelgard confirmed his latest role, his account came too close to zero for comfort. Edelgard did not even need to tell him about the role, he accepted as soon as he could.

In the end, it was not a bad role for him. Dorothea’s love interest, as usual, but they were a separated couple in constant peril due a mastermind determined to keep them apart. The villain was a new actor to film, but Edelgard seemed to hold them in high regard. Ferdinand, upon first meeting, thought their expressions to be bland and too subdue, even for a camera. But their face was perfect for such an uncaring villain. Ferdinand even felt chills down his spine as he acted against the newcomer.

Although the new actor, Byleth was their name, was not so perfect. They too had another’s voice for their song. A feminine voice, from what Ferdinand had heard, but they too asked to be anonymous. Ferdinand was not where sure Edelgard found all these silent artists.

Parts of him felt uncomfortable for growing famous using their work, yet Edelgard insisted both voices were content and preferred remaining unknown.

The more he thought of it, the more Ferdinand saw the appeal: do the work you loved, but not have to deal with the constant scrutiny of every action in your public life. Such was the price of fame that he continued to paid.

The premiere of his first film with Byleth ended as a roaring success. The critics thought they played off both him and Dorothea well. A real power trio, some tabloid called them.So well-received it was, the studio offered another film right away, pay disputes or not.

It appeared to be a typical production, only now a love triangle between him and Byleth for Dorothea’s character’s affection, but at the premiere, Edelgard revealed a scandal bigger than the film itself.

Namely, Garreg Mach Studios was lying to its worker about the film’s total revenue, paying them less, and writing contracts deeply favoring the investors and studios heads. By Edelgard’s calculation, they all should have had paychecks three, or even four, times as big. He truly did not care about the money, but seeing how the studio was exploiting him and the others, boiled his blood. So when Edelgard offered to take him on within her new studio, where everyone was treated fairly and equally, he took it without looking back.

Edelgard’s new studio, called Striking Eagle Studios, only had an employee size of less than a dozen. But a talented group short of a dozen. As soon as Edelgard opened the studio space, it was chaos. They did not have the long history nor large catalogue of resources like a long standing studio. Everything needed to be built up from nothing. Everyone did double duty and overtime.The actors helped the prop masters, script writers carried lighting and sound equipment as the technicians rigged they new systems, even Edelgard got on her knees to help build sets.

It was hard work, and Ferdinand came home every night more exhausted than when he first started out doing nightly shows on stage and waiting in a restaurant. But it was gratifying work. Truly seeing something he built from the ground filled him with more pride than any he had ever done before. Holding a prop he build in front of the camera nearly brought tears to his eyes.

It also gave Ferdinand insights on just what else was required to make a film. Ferdinand had a lucky break and continued good fortune to take him as long and high as it had. He knew Dorothea started as a makeup artist before her first on-screen appearance. He gained a new appreciation for everything the crew did.

Linhardt, though ever falling asleep throughout the day, had truly ingenious ideas for props that save them pennies, which it added up quickly. Whoever managed the budget, most likely Byleth as they seemed to have mind for resource management, must love his penny-pinching ideas.

Bernadetta was in a constant state of writing and rewriting; she only seemed content when Edelgard near ripped the script from under pen. Although, Ferdinand sometimes heard her adjusting the script days later despite Edeglard’s assurance it was a fine script and well-written.

Petra and Caspar, sound and light technicians respectively, loved their job and freely taught Ferdinand their craft. If he was honest, he was glad Caspar was nothing more than a lighting technician. The plans for his own films sounded dangerous, if not deadly, to all. Petra, the newest to the industry of them all, was eager to learn and try new sound techniques.

Hubert, the set coordinator, formally for Garreg Mach Studios, rounded out their small group. He took his art, as building an entire world in a studio was an art form, the most serious of all them. First to arrive and last to leave. Never one to eat and talk during breaks or go out for drinks. If that was not enough, his hands, when bare and not covered in work gloves, were calloused and scarred.

Nearly a year after Edelgard’s announcement, they projected their first film to a small audience at the Golden Deer Theater. It was not as influential as the theaters ran by Garreg Mach Studios, but it gave them a chance to exhibit their own film.

This film earned most of its fame by word of mouth, yet no one seemed able to find a copy of the film. It was a hidden treasure for those who supported Striking Eagles Studios from the beginning.

After that first success proving an independent film studio can make it, people were more willing to join Edelgard. With a bigger crew, nearly two dozen, Edelgard felt it comfortable producing their first musical. Ferdinand doubted the same singers from before could be used, but Edelgard surprised him with a preview of the final cut. On the screen was Ferdinand, but the voice of the same mysterious man reverberated in the entire theater. He begged Edelgard to let him meet the man, for he must be closely related to her for singing in her “rebel film”, so the tabloid called it. She gave nothing away, but let slipped that his script was passed over the singer after filming.

When the next musical was in production, Ferdinand drafted a letter. He began and ended the letter many times before he found the precise words, which he wrote at the front of his script after wrapping up the last day of filming.

_Dearest Voice,_

_I may never know you name, but it will be a crime if I never expressed gratitude or my attachment to your voice. So I write this letter hoping to convey on both accounts._

_Firstly, I highly doubt I would still be allowed to act if not for you. Film, since it inception, has been an attractive medium. The control film has over every element is incomparable and I cannot see myself involved anything else. But when sounds and musicals dominated film critiques, I thought myself finished. My “bird-mating” voice, as the others call it, paired poorly with the dramatics. So my continued presence in films, especially director von Hresvelg’s, is due to nothing short of your miraculous voice filling in for mine. Thank you for being so generous. I swear I will not give a performance unworthy of your voice._

_Secondly, please know every time the radio plays one of your songs, I drop everything. Your voice requires my full attention, which I have not failed to give. How I wished I could be in the same room as you sing note after note. How I wished I could see your expression as you supply each word more meaning than they ever had before. How I wished I could know who you imagine while singing such songs of love, of hate, of passion._

_How I wished I could tell all of this in person._

_Your fan,_

_Ferdinand von Aegir_

The next days were dedicated to striking the studio. There were not many people helping, but the dedicated few worked quickly and quietly.

So when his script slammed down onto the work station next to his, Ferdinand jumped. The accompanying voice sent chills down his body; as if he was about to be scolded by the world’s strictest teacher. “What is this garbage?” the voice said.

Ferdinand numbly turned around and found his eyes at Hubert’s chest. It was the first time Hubert actually addressed him. Usually he only talked to Edelgard, and she was unquestionably the only one to assist him at times.

“My script?” Ferdinand feebly said as he took a better look at the man before. Tall, taller than Ferdinand at least, dark, and murderous. If Ferdinand was not overwhelmed with work, he would questioned if he did something wrong.

“It was. Until you decided to mark up the pages.”

“Mark it up? I only take notes in the margins.” Especially now with his speeches required specific and varying cadences.

“Then what is this nonsense?” Hubert flipped open the booklet to Ferdinand’s letter.

Mortification filled him as he reached for the script, “That was not yours to read!”

Hubert, newly discovered dastard, held it above his reach and looked down at him as if disgusted by his very being.

“Then do not put it places others can read it.”

“I was under the impression only the recipient would handle my script.”

He knew Hubert knew he had a ghost singer, but it would not do to say it aloud. Who knew who was listening?

“He does. I am just a messenger. The messenger who saw the letter when the script fell down.”

“Oh,” Ferdinand said as he sat back down and sighed. What was done was done. More embarrassing and revealing incidents had happened.

Hubert dropped his arm and crossed them, but he still clutched the script, “If you intend to fawn over this voice, why not tell him directly?”

“I want to! I desperately want to, but he requires obscurity.”

“So you do not know who he is?” Hubert raised his eyebrow so perfectly timed, it should have been filmed.

“Of course not! If I did, I assuredly would not be writing a letter in my script.”

“Interesting.”

Ferdinand, now over his embarrassment, grasped the implication of Hubert addressing him. He smiled and said, “What is interesting is you said you are passing the script to him, right?”

“Well, yes. I have been tasked with such a responsibility.”

“Then,” his smile split open to a grin as he pulled out an envelope out of his pockets, “will you give him this letter as well.”

“You wrote two letters?” Hubert glared at the letter with enough heat to set aflame if his gaze could.

“Yes… I realized last night I only talked of myself in that letter. I thought it be courteous to ask about him. It would not do to have a one-side conversation.”

“Very well,” Hubert snatched the letter out of his hands, “I shall deliver this letter. Just this once. I am not the studio’s mailboy.”

“Thank you, Hubert.”

“Hmph. It matters not to me. It is not like you will get a reply.”

“Even if I do not, it matters that my feelings were properly expressed and reached him.”

Hubert left swiftly and Ferdinand returned to work and his daydream about the mysterious man. He decided the man would have hair as dark as Hubert’s. It matched the commanding figure Ferdinand imagined. It was also a nice hair color.

No letters slipped through his doors the following days. It appeared Hubert was right.

Until the film’s premiere a week later and an unmarked letter came to him at his house that night. It was unnerving. Less so when the letter revealed the Voice as the sender, who was attached to the studio, and not a fan or stranger.

To think he was so close! He came all the way to Ferdinand’s house to personally deliver the letter! What else could Ferdinand do, but read it as soon as he could. 

_Lovely Ferdinand,_

_I must thank you for your compliments. They are unexpected and not warranted in the slightest, I was just doing what was needed. That said, I humbly accept them._

_I fear I am not as eloquent as you, but I too hold you in high regard. Your acting has kept me in the film industry, which is just as important to me as it seems to you. Recently, troubles seems to find me no matter what I do, but watching you on a big screen reminds why I care so much._

_You wished to see me when singing, but I fear I could not give you a performance; recording your songs is rather a bland sight. Still, I will endeavor to assist your continual radiant glow on the screen. I look forward to see what role you embrace next. You have my full confidence that it will be performance beyond compare. After all, your acting range and constant strive to do better makes you the best actor of our generation._

_Yours truly,_

_A fan and voice_

Ferdinand completely forgot he was needed somewhere. He read and reread the sweet words written in small and fine script. Calling him lovely within the first line was almost too much for him. He nearly had to put the letter down and hide under a blanket before continuing.

The most unexpected part was the gentleman was a fan! It was only slightly ruined by Ferdinand abruptly recalling every mistake in every film he had done. He no longer remembered if any or all of them made into the final cut, but the idea of someone as important as this gentleman seeingand studying all his blunders flustered him like no other fact.

But that last sentence. He traced each word with his finger and whispered them to himself. The highest praise he had received and had him nearly fainting.

If the gentleman thought this would satisfy as communication, he was sorely mistaken. Now more than ever, Ferdinand desired and needed to meet this man.

But before the marvelous moment, he needed to get to the premiere before it was too late. Else Dorothea would not let him hear the end of it.

Weeks and months passed with new films and new letters. Ferdinand continued with letters in his script, and Hubert continued his glares at the defaced booklet. The letters, and now additional flowers, he received, left in his new office at the studios instead, made the glares worth it.

Their messages focused on the films themselves, both their thoughts and own struggles in making it. It could be a conversation with anyone in Ferdinand life, yet the care and dedication the gentleman showed in the letters, the descriptions of his situation, all brought Ferdinand to value his opinions and eager to hear the next.

It was not all rosy and romantic, for the gentleman, when he found something lacking, did not hold back his remarks. Politely worded, but no less scathing. He took it hard the first time, but found those words inspirational to improve his acting.

They exchanged no personal information, or no more than what Ferdinand had released to the public, which was already such a fabricated story. He wished he could share more about himself. To do so, however, felt like a breach of trust. He was not sure whose trust, but if he revealed too much, he feared the letters would end.

But they never ceased as Striking Eagles Studio entered their second year of existence.

Although they were growing faster than expected, with growing power in the industry, everyone still worked two jobs. It was not the fair future Edelgard promise, and that fact was kept out of public eyes, but the pay was better than at Garreg Mach, which held many people’s promise of silence.

As Hubert was the one to handle his script between him and the gentleman, Ferdinand took helping Hubert as his next highest priority as appreciation for his additional job of “mailboy.” The set constructor, in all likelihood, did not like Ferdinand much. He did, however, only have a regular crew of three, so he needed all the help he could get, even if it was Ferdinand.

His latest task Hubert gave him, with a near glare, was texturing the fake trees the crew built. The trees were all painted, but required details. He was sent off to the fake forest while Hubert went over to build the waterfall on the other side of the set.

Though daunted by the sheer number of trees built in a day, Ferdinand was determined to finish his own task in a day. He took great pains for the trees in front, as they would definitely be in frame, but as he moved farther back, he noticed the trees became unrefined. From a distance they looked like trees, however, as he stood next to them, Ferdinand could see the unpainted areas and leaves arranged unnaturally, the most surprising ones stood straight up!

The lack of attention by the crew did not mean Ferdinand would become lackadaisical. He did his job and adjusted the more obvious flaws in the trees. A twist in the leaves here. A rearrangement of branches here. A better root placement there. He felt the that pride of knowing he would be acting in a set he built, that his personality was not only in his character, but also the surroundings.

Some spike tape was on the floor, but he assumed it was for future adjustments. Blissfully, he went on. He moved some of the roots of a particularly offensive tree with tape all around it. The scraping of the roots distracted him from the frantic footsteps behind him. The footsteps went unnoticed until he was twisted back by a firm hand. His chest collided with the solid body of none other than Hubert’s. Stunned by the close contact, he did not catch the tree branches falling behind him. He felt, however, wind rustling behind him. With the crash, Ferdinand turned around.

“Oh,” he said as realization of what Hubert just did sunk in: the top of the tree he just adjusted its roots had fallen where he stood.

“Were you intentionally trying to break the set and yourself?” Hubert hissed accusation brought his attention back to the other man.

“No! I just was trying to fix the trees.”

“The trees do not need fixing.”

“But they were so imperfectly done.”

“Yes, that is because they were not finished.” Hubert’s eyes moved towards the ground, then met his again in a cold glare Ferdinand has never seen before. His calm voice gave away to a much louder and powerful tone, the kind where one could only nod their head. “Did you forget that spike tape around a set piece was not to be touched by anyone other than a construction member? That the red tape was not a sign for your attention, but a sign of danger?”

Yes, Ferdinand did recall Hubert mentioning on his first day assisting that taped area meant everyone, but a few, were to avoid it.

“You are correct, I did forget. Forgive me and thank you for saving me.”

But something else about Hubert’s scolding nagged at Ferdinand. It was the first time he heard Hubert project his voice above a conversational volume level. But something about his projected voice sounded more familiar than his quiet, near whisper, voice.

“I hardly call it saving you.” Hubert became aware they were still pressed against each other, and moved back. Ferdinand, when separate from Hubert’s body heat, felt a chill. Hubert seemed unaffected and resumed talking, “Save you from a nasty cut at best. I am glad you are unharmed, but I am taking you off this job. Go see if Caspar needs help rigging lights.”

“Of course. Sorry if I made more work for you.”

“Think nothing of it.”

Ferdinand bade Hubert goodbye and left the forest set. So maybe Hubert did not dislike him as much as Ferdinand thought. Otherwise why pull him out of danger? When Hubert yelling at him, which Ferdinand had heard him do to others before, would be as effective. Heartened at the thought, Ferdinand near skipped up to the light way-walk hanging above everyone’s heads.

Work there went smoother, but, as usual, the day ended late for Ferdinand.

When he was clocking out, he noticed Hubert tinkering away at the garden set. It was unfortunate despite their success, shooting on location continued to be a hassle, so everything had to be shot at the studio. The price of being a small studio. Even so, the sun had long set, everyone else went home, or packed up and ready to go, and Hubert appeared nowhere close to finish.

Any other day, Ferdinand would offer his help, but after today’s mistake, a gift for when Hubert finally finished work might be better appreciated. Ferdinand ran back to his office, where he kept in on-set tea collection. It was tiny compared to the variety he housed at home, but it had everyone’s favorite teas. He bottled up a perfect serving size of cinnamon tea, the only tea Ferdinand seen Hubert drink without spiting it out, and rushed over to Hubert’s desk. It was out in the open, in the corner of the lot, and surely a place Hubert would visit before leaving.

Ferdinand had passed it plenty of times, but never examined it. It was full of sketches of places and settings need to be built, were built, or scrapped ideas. If a diagram did not take up the entire sheets, notes of material, measurements, prices, possible dates, and other reminders filled the margins. It was the first time Ferdinand saw Hubert’s writing. Usually, the man just told him his tasks or demonstrated what needed to be done. It was faster than making Ferdinand decipher these notes.

But Ferdinand found another reason. Hubert’s handwriting was the same as the handwriting that had paid him the sweetest compliments. That encouraged his acting evolution. That drove his own personal growth. That slowly wooed him.

A sound rang out the set, and without thinking, Ferdinand grabbed a sheet of paper full of notes and ran out the door.

He did not stop moving until he got home, where he pulled out each letter and reread them next to the construction notes.

He did not get much sleep after confirming the same little quirks in the scripts.

Ferdinand felt an overwhelming amount of energy the next day. He had so many questions. They had so much to discuss. He wanted the whole day to just him and Hubert. But progress demanded to be made.

However, the time between his revelation and his inevitable conversation with Hubert gave him time to think of his approach. It would be uncouth of him to directly confront him in public. Maybe it was unfair of him to let Hubert know he knew. Yet, to have someone he was half infatuated with already so close and not express his emotions was untrue to his nature.

He determined their pattern of communication was the best method. Another night gone without sleep as he prepared for the next day.

“That’s a warp!” Edelgard’s voice rang out and the entire company let out a sigh.

The week before the summer premieres was the only time the studio designated a break. A few days, but the promise of sleeping in the next day lit a fire underneath even the most dedicated worker. In record time, makeup and costume was removed from the actors, lights turned off, microphones stored away, camera placement spiked, and notes about future filming were taken.

Yet, in the face of this excitement, Ferdinand moved out everyone’s way and let them hurry toward their vacation. He did his own end-of-the-day chores, but kept his eyes trained on Hubert. The other man moved like he planned coming back tomorrow for another four am call time.

Completely engrossed watching Hubert, Ferdinand failed noticing they were the only left.

Once he did, that was his cue.

“Hubert,” Ferdinand walked to where Hubert was sitting at his desk flipping through set sketches. “Do you have a minute?”

“If this is about the trees from the other day, I can assure you we have it covered.”

“Oh, no, it’s not about that. Rather, I came to ask a favor…”

“Then if this about one of your letters, you do know the gentleman will not be in the studio until weeks after the break.”

“It is not that either. Well, not in the same way.”

“Ferdinand, please just ask me. Prolonging does nothing for the both of us.”

“Very well,” he cleared his throat, “would you mind listening to this for me?”

“I have no interest in your letters.”

“I know, but I really want to make sure this one is perfect, and you are the only one who knows about it. I cannot go to anyone else but you.”

“If you are that adamant, go right ahead.”

“Thank you.” He unfolded the piece of paper he worked on until dawn. With one last deep breath, he began:

_Dearest Voice,_

_Our exchange has been nothing, but a bright spot in my life. I cherish each and every letter you penned for me. As clever as you are, you can most likely guess my affection for not only your voice, but your person as well. Your wit and conviction always activates my imagination to what it would be like to stand in the same room as you as you speak them._

_You have a deep laugh with a vague sense of it is something ominous, yet it is a sound I desperately listen for every time we talk. You control your movement, as if you yourself was in front of a camera, with such grace it should be a dance._

_But, now my imagination has gone too far. When presented the smallest morsel of information about you, I took it without reflection. I must apologize about the breech of privacy. I apologize for coming forward without warning. For now, I know what it is like being next to you, to work with you, to hear your voice, not through a device, but in person. I was simply overjoyed at the prospect of talking to you in person once again. And, if you would allow, confessing all the effect you as a singer, correspondent, and colleague has had on me._

_Dearest Hubert I am head over heels for you and hope you will accept me._

_Yours,_

_Ferdinand von Aegir_

As he feared, Hubert did not move or speak. Doubt chilled Ferdinand’s veins. He made a terrible mistake. Hubert did not truly care for him. Hubert now resented him for exposing him.

Hubert’s sigh unnerved him even more. “So it was you who took my estimate.”

“Er, yes?”

“I should have know it was a sign. Either way, congratulations. I am astounded it took you this long to ascertain it was my voice.”

“You mean, you are not mad that I know it is you?”

“Perhaps if you came to me a year ago, I would yell and curse you. Parts of me still wishes to. But it turns out I am too fond of you to stay mad.”

“You!” his mind short circuited with that one sentence, and he did not know what he wanted to say. He ended with, “You are fond of me?!”

“Why are you surprised? Why else would a person write back to every letter for a year?”

“Of course, but to think my feelings were reciprocated this entire time…" He took a step back from Hubert and pressed an hand on his rapidly beating chest." It is unfathomable right now. They are reciprocated, right?” Ferdinand asked in such a small voice that a microphone would not even pick it up.

“I am not sure. You never quite told me what you felt for me.”

The charming wit was not so charming when directed at him in person, and he said as much, “You are a cruel man.”

“And you are a vexing one.”

“Then to unvex you, I will state it clearly. I esteem you more than anyone I have ever met. Truthfully, before I even knew it was you who I held such high regard for. I wholeheartedly love you.”

“Beautiful words befitting a man of your talents.”

“Do not think I am just reciting lines.”

“Believe me, I know the difference. I watched and studied every one of your films. I know the difference between you on and off screen. Which is why I have loved you since before you knew I existed.”

His mouth hangs at several revelations before giving a proper reaction befitting a dramatic film, “Preposterous! I have known you for as long as we have been working together, and fell shortly not long after.”

“Maybe that is true, but who said I fell when we began working together? No, for myself, it was much earlier than that.”

“Truly? Then what was it that caught your attention? Please tell me,” Ferdinand begged.

“I think enough of my secrets have been revealed. I presume you have told no one of my singing capabilities.”

“Of course not!”

“And let us keep it that way.”

“You desire no acknowledgement?” 

“Only Edelgard knew of my talents until you predicament came along. I desire no attention towards myself. I will leave the spotlight for you and her.”

“Then I will not let you down.” Ferdinand took Hubert hands into his own.

“I never thought you would,” Hubert said as he raised their joined hands to his lips and Ferdinand felt the earth give out from under him. 

Those who knew Ferdinand von Aegir might question why someone like him, who, at times, loved the sound of his husband’s voice too much, continued acting.

In truth, he no longer performed in musicals. His goal of shining bright in the film industry had no meaning if he continually depended on another’s voice. As musicals faded and heart wrenching and heart warming films became the norm, Ferdinand’s voice dominated the film theaters.

First in line for every showing in their area was a tall and handsome gentleman whose scuffed hands held the hands of the brightest star.

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2 complete! Early film history is wild and I love it so much, hence this piece. Thank you for reading and I hoped you enjoyed it!
> 
> Don't forget to check out all the other wonderful work being done this week on [twitter](https://twitter.com/hashtag/Ferdibertweek2019)!!


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